


First It's the Spark

by elenawrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenawrites/pseuds/elenawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some oneshots beginning in eighth year, all somewhat inspired by the song "Spark" by Amber Run</p>
            </blockquote>





	First It's the Spark

__They were friends.

Harry didn’t know how it had happened, he didn’t know why, all he knew was that he was suddenly capable of sitting next to Draco Malfoy in the library, nudging him as he would drift off, and not committing murder.  
In fact, murder was far from Harry’s mind as Draco leaned into him, pressing his forehead against Harry’s shoulder and groaning, “Potter, we’ve been here for _hours,_ can’t we just finish this bloody essay tomorrow?”  
Harry laughed softly and began to pack up his things, keeping still enough so that he wouldn’t startle the blond resting on his arm.  
“If we must. But you owe me one, Malfoy.”  
Draco raised his head and grinned, his eyes half shut from mere exhaustion.  
“Whatever you wish, Potter.”  
It was a start. 

  
•

  
The hospital wing was empty except for three people.  
Draco dozed in the only occupied bed. He was recovering after being cornered and cursed by a group of hateful students, and Harry could feel his anger towards them rising every time he looked down at the boy in the bed, covered in healing cuts and scrapes.  
“He’s going to be fine, Harry. Just remember what Madam Pomfrey said.” Hermione’s voice was soothing, and Harry felt her arm slip around him as they sat next to Draco’s bed.  
He nodded. “I know. I know, I just-” he sighed, gazing at the jagged marks that marred the blond’s skin.  
“Just… Can’t believe someone would do something like this. It’s all over. He- he didn’t-” Harry buried his face in his hands.  
Hermione looked over at him, smiling sadly and shaking her head. “You like him, don’t you. Like that.”  
It wasn’t phrased as a question. She had figured it out, she always did, and when Harry nodded into his hands and gave a muffled “yeah,” he felt Hermione stand up next to him.  
“I’m glad you’re telling me. I want you to be happy.” She rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment and then stepped back. “I’ll let you be alone with him for a while.”  
It was silent for a minute after the door shut behind her.  
And then a soft voice was speaking, saying his name. Harry jerked his head up to stare right into the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy, who, judging by the look on his face, had not been asleep as Harry had thought.  
“Potter,” he said quietly, “Is… Is that true?”  
Harry took an deep breath and nodded, eyes still locked with Draco’s.  
And Draco began to smile. He sank back into the bed and covered his blushing face with his hands, laughing quietly.  
“Thank merlin,” he said as Harry stared in disbelief. “So it’s not just me.”  
Harry blushed too and began to laugh. “No, I suppose it’s not just you.”

  
•

  
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”  
“What? You mean getting our own flat and properly moving in together?” Draco hefted another box into his arms and started up the next flight of stairs. “Come off it, Potter, we’ve only been together for two years.”  
_Two years. Had it really been two years?_  
Draco looked down at Harry from the top of the stairs, his smile wide and sincere. The sunlight was hitting his face just right, making his hair shine and his skin look rosy and soft. Harry’s stomach fluttered a bit when he took in the worn green jumper, an old garment of his that Draco had taken a liking to.  
Two years ago, would he have thought he’d be moving in with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his clothing and smiling at him like that?  
Draco began to turn around, shaking his head slightly and still smiling.  
“Wait. Draco.”  
Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry, who was still standing at the bottom of the stairs. “What is it, Potter? Finally decided to help me with this lifting?”  
Harry picked up a cardboard box and made his way up to Draco. He stood close enough that their shoulders were touching and leaned in, kissing him on the cheek.  
“I love you.”  
Draco’s face turned pink, and he looked at the ground for a second before murmuring back, “I love you too, Potter. Now just get a move on before I drop this box.”  
Harry laughed and started up the next flight of stairs.

  
•

  
They were sitting on the kitchen floor, legs splayed out across the tile.  
“D'you remember that time,” Draco began, his voice shaking with laughter, “when we were at Weasley’s house and-” he threw his head back, tears in his eyes, “-and Rose saw us- and you said- said that we-” He stopped his sentence, unable to get the words out coherently. Harry could barely remember just what had happened at Ron’s that was so amusing, but he laughed too at the sight of Draco’s face, flushed and grinning like a child.  
They had finished the last of their work over an hour ago, and had since moved from discussions of ministry affairs to reminiscing about the past together.  
“What about,” Harry began, “when your mum and Molly were talking about dentists.”    
Draco sat up slightly and began to mimic Narcissa’s prim, polished speech. “‘But _why_ would anyone want to examine muggle teeth for a living?’”    
Both he and Harry dissolved into laughter. Harry, wheezing slightly, added, “I think that’s one of the only times they’ve agreed on something.”  
Draco ran one hand through his hair and slid an arm around Harry’s waist. “Probably. It is an odd profession, though.”  
Harry snorted. “Don’t let Hermione hear you say that.”  
He glanced out the window, and, noticing it had begun to rain, nudged Draco with his elbow. “You want to go flying?”  
Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter, it’s raining.”  
“And when has that ever stopped you?”  
Harry grinned up at Draco, silently daring him to back down.  
Draco pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand to Harry.  
“You’re on, Potter.”  
Harry took his hand.

  
•

  
It was nearly one o'clock in the morning.  
Harry stood outside the bedroom door and knocked softly. The door opened a crack and he could see a few slender fingers curling around the edge.  
“What is it, Potter? You know we aren’t supposed to see each other until tomorrow.”  
Harry brushed the fingers with his own. “Stupid custom. Miss you too much.”  
He heard a laugh from behind the door. “Stupid custom or not, you can’t come in.”  
Harry leaned his head against the door, catching sight of a flash of blond hair through the crack.  
“I feel strange not sleeping next to you.”  
“Likewise, you sap.”  
“’S too cold.”  
“I know.” Draco sounded sleepy, his voice barely loud enough for Harry to hear.  
“I suppose this is the last night I’ll get to call you ‘Malfoy,’ isn’t it.”  
“S'ppose it is.”  
Harry grinned at the floor. Draco didn’t sound too upset about that. The thought made Harry begin to blush right there outside the door.  
“Draco?”  
“Right here, love.”  
“’M too nervous to sleep.”  
There was a small sigh, and Draco’s hand laced with his. “Everything’s going to be fine. Better than fine.”  
“I know. I know, just… Wish I was with you.”  
“Make it twelve more hours, then you’ll have me every night for the rest of our lives.”  
It was taking a lot of willpower for Harry to not burst into the bedroom and hold Draco as tight as he possibly could, but he settled for squeezing his hand and stroking his thumb softly.  
“Thank merlin for that.”  
Draco laughed. “Yes. Now go to sleep, Harry. ’S just a little while longer.”    
Harry reluctantly let go of Draco’s hand.  
“Alright. I love you.”  
“I love you too.”  
It was only the start.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!


End file.
